Thirsty grassland would unfold before him, fluctuating lowlands of dehydrated vegetation woven with the struggling fingers of minute rivulets; dainty somewhat, despite the massive numbers that seemed to dwell within the region. Invisible wings would beat behind coral heels, the angel swaying with unnatural ease, only the tips of elongated tail sweeping granules of primordial sand from the enchanters wake. The albino would recess, jewellery-bound elbows squaring beneath broad chest, cherry nostrils quivering with budding interest as the stench of a pack would invade fervent pipes; fondling his psyche into a flurry of ecstasy as he awaited discovery just void of the borders. With him, his recently united slayer, his Silver Knight; Argent meandered close, the pair an undeniable image of prime vigor, imposing determination as sinister intention would brew equally behind saturated gapes. ?Valhalla? had something Isardis wanted, or rather somebody.

She followed him closely, frame tall and confident as he lead the way to the pack lands. Argent was a most loyal knight, willing to do whatever necessary to protect her King. She knew that he wanted something, and she knew that he would get it, but she feared the pack would not react well to him. She kept close, crimson eyes determined as she kept an eye out for danger. If the Valhallans were to attack her dear alpha then she would teach them a lesson. If Isardis wished for her to fight for the wench instead of himself, then she would. Argent would bend to his will as she always did, and today she found herself pausing at his right side, dipping her head to him for the briefest of seconds before returning her attention to where she supposed the Valhallan party might approach from. Perhaps they will see reason she thought, although she doubted that they would.

They approached with purpose, and yet did not call for her at the borders. Chrysanthe was not sure who these wolves were, but they smelled of northern lands - and not of Amenti. She had met the leaders of the renegade pack, yet these two were complete strangers to her - not a hint of familiarity held true when glancing over the features of these lupine. And so she would approach with caution. Perhaps they were of the new, new Glaciem? The pack had belonged to her siblings at one point, but they left it behind soon after claiming it as their own.

She would carry herself with confidence, standing before the pair knowing that should anything happen, these were her lands. They wouldn't come here to cause trouble knowing that. 'So what could they want?' A truce of some sort? Perhaps they wanted to know about Valhalla itself? They were strange looking, to some extent - the male seemed to have little coloration to him that wasn't a pale sort of pink, and the woman was strung together with whites and grays, save for her blood orange eyes. "Greetings, what brings the pair of you to Valhalla?" The alpha would question, and then give them the chance to speak, wondering all the while what they wanted.

Cormalin

Cormalin padded slowly along the Borders of Valhalla, taking his time, reading what the wind had to bring him. It was the middle of Summer, his least favorite season, due to his black fur, but he endured, and kept his jovial nature intact. Dips in the Border River helped as well, and his fur was still damp from a recent swim. It was drying fast though. This Summer however, was nothing compared to one of the Summers back in the Old Land. A nasty drought had dried up a neighboring pack?s water supply, and they had sought refuge with Valhalla, swelling the already great ranks to an alarming number of wolves. This Summer was mild in comparison, and while the grasses of the plains dried into hay, it was a natural occurrence, and the dry grass still held nutrition enough to support prey, and Obsidian. He paused, nose twitching. Two new scents, male and female, rode the breeze that ruffled his thick, now dry ruff. Instantly on alert, to took off at a low trot, ears forward, as he continued to read the scents. They had tinges cooler air, pine, and many females. A brow rose. Pack wolves, from a pack made up of more females than males. He snorted, expelling the scents from his nostrils, and taking a fresh sniff. A strange tang mingled with the male?s scent. Like blood, but not. Having never encountered gold in his life, he was slightly baffled. Chrysanthe?s scent mingled with the two strangers, and even as he drew near, he heard her voice, enquiring as to their presence at Valhalla. He stepped into the area, coming to stand beside Chrysanthe with a soft whuff to his Alpha, before mismatched eyes turned to study the strangers. The male was large, and pale. Albino, by his pink skin and ruby eyes. He wondered how the male kept from getting sunburned from all the pink skin under the short white fur of his face. It made Cormalin glad to be dark, black, hot fur and all. Sunburn, he?d heard, was worse. Painfully so. The glint of light on something shiny on the male caught his attention. The bangles were a curious thing, but he gave them only a mere glance before turning his attention to the female. She stood as tall as his sister at thirty-six inches, but had the build of a warrior. Her coloration was that of greys and whites, with a pair of fiery crimson eyes set into two dark circles. She was a pretty thing, but he paid no attention to the looks. He studied the two again, this time taking in the sinister stance of the male, the determination intertwined, and the female?s watchful ready position of a warrior who would fight if she must. He himself stood calm, tail relaxed, ears canted at easy attention, waiting to hear what they had to say in answer to Chrysanthe?s words.

The scent of strangers tore the druid's attention away from his task. He pulled his two-toned sapphire and gold gaze away from the patch of thyme he had found hiding in the shade of a tree, managing to escape some of the burning summer heat. "Who could that be?" he mused, glancing down at his little friend. The tiny fox peered up at him and shrugged. "A visitor maybe?" Cael returned her shrug before picking up the bundle of thyme he had picked and turned to trot toward the scent. He had only been a member of Valhalla for a short time, but he had already made his pack his home and was readily concerned for its welfare. If these visitors were trouble he wanted to be there to offer his help. While he may not be the best at the physical art at fighting, he was comfortable with his healing abilities and knew that with any fight injuries were bound to happen. He moved along at an easy trot with Elva tagging along behind him and before long he arrived to see his father at the Valhalla borders along with Chrysanthe. He had yet to actually speak with his Alpha, but her scent was everywhere around the territory and he had heard her description from others. She was hard to mistake with her unique russet face. In front of the pair of Valhallan leaders was two wolves, one with Albino coloring and the other with a coat of ivory and gray. The albino brute had a circlet of some shiny material around his limb and the pair smelled of the north. Cael came to a halt a few yards behind the Valhallan leaders, close enough to see what was going on and be there to offer his help if it was necessary. Elva ducked behind his forelimbs, peeking out around the ivory pillars curiously. He bent his head down to place the thyme in front of his companion, whispering, "Take these back to the den for me? And bring some lavender and comfrey with you. Find Imena to help you reach them if needed, alright?" The white and gray fox nodded eagerly and snatched up the herbs and took off toward the den as fast as her little legs would take her. He smiled and watched her go for a moment before turning his gaze back to the proceedings, watching in concerned silence. Speech Thought Others Companion

Summer was upon them in the most cliche of ways. The beautiful grasses of the plains had turned a dead yellow coloration. They rustled against each other and, in the masses, grew quite loud when the wind picked up. "Shhhh" they said, demanding silence and silence was given. She wandered near the border, moving delicately through the long grass with ears attentively pointed forward. Her head was tipped down, she was hunting. She didn't use her eyes, instead letting her ears lead her to the faint sounds of rodents underfoot. Field mice. The female pounce, landing hard on a mouse, the force alone enough to dispatch the small mammal. When she lifted her head there was another wolf headed across the open, far enough away that they could easily avoid each other. She watched him, curious. They seemed to have noticed something of interest and Azalea turned her head to look. There seemed to be a gathering of wolves near the border. The young sheila snatched up her mouse, letting it flip up into the air before dropping back into her jaws. Two bites and it was gone, and Azalea was already on the go. When she reached the little party she noted the known wolves. Chrysanthe was there, of course, as well as Cromalin and Cael. The strange wolves were certainly a sight, she had never seen wolves quite like them, it made them unusual. She stepped nearer to Chrysanthe, fiery eyes on the female wolf first. The dark rings around her crimson eyes striking. The male was pale as could be, pink skin showing through around his nose, and eyes. His eyes looked pink, lacking pigment so that they showed the many tiny blood vessels in his eyes. She didn't know these wolves and no one here seemed to know them. They held an air of power about them. The Heir stood silent, standing tall, tail held just just below the line of her back. Speech,

Imena

She had spent the morning sleeping in, after she had told Cael and his brother everything, she found if very hard to sleep. She had tried poppy seeds among other herbs to help her but nothing seemed to work. She left the den by afternoon to make some use of herself. Clearing out the old bedding and replacing with new. It had taken some time, after making sure Cael would not help her. She wanted some time alone, a soul task or her to do alone. It allowed her to think or to even possibly go blank and move as if in automatic. She knew Cael worried about as did his brother. And she didn't blame them. If the roles had been switched she would be too. But she could not of anything the brothers could do to help her. Once the bedding had been taken care of she set off to look for food for Cael, Elva and herself. It would not be a grand meal, she was no expert in hunting. But something was always better than nothing. It would not take her long to have gathered a few rabbits for the group. The summer seemed to florish with rabbits here. It was only her way back, taking the long way, did she notice a group. Ears perked up and hackles raised slightly in alarm. She moved cautiously towards them. Sky blue eyes picked out each wolf she knew but two. Making a wide berth around Chrysanthe, Cormalin, and Azalea. She can then to Cael's side, brushing pelt with his and set the rabbits down. Sharp eyes took in the strangers carefully. The female was large, impossing and those eyes stood out like a wild fire in the dark. The male was intereting. She had heard of albinos but never seen one. She took in every inche of him, rather surprized in the healthy state of condition the male was in. Most albinos had a hard time surviving with the sun alone beating down on them. But n litters of growing up, wolves like him tended to berunts of at least weaker. But it seemed he had defied nature and it's laws. Her natural healer interest had her staring at him like he was some kind of new species. She had to admit she was impressed. But therewas an underlining warning she picked up. The air was to thick and tense, like right before a storm. Something aout these two could mean trouble for the pack. "Is Eva back at the den?" She whispered to Cael softly. She hoped he little fox was somewhere safe and would not come here. Somehing told Imena there could be a fight, a show down of some sortions. A low vibration rippled through her, only loud enough for Cael to hear her dicomfort.

When The King desired something, it would plague his mind like the rotting carcass of a decaying rat, poisoning his psyche, yearnings crawling like squirming maggots through his veins; it discomforted him, made his core shudder frigidly with the rising infection, increasing need. To satisfy his ache he need do nothing less than obtain his requirements, conform his wishes. And so there he would stand, marvelling silently at the rising figure of the russet-kissed vixen, misused gaze tracing her form; as much sizing her up as an opponent as blooming upon her exquisiteness, tracing thirstily over her hips before ruby gaze would fall upon her crimson face.

The rising numbers would not draw his attention, sparing none the mannerisms of care, for they were of no interest to The King; in that moment, he need only satisfy his possessing desires to obtain the charcoal babe, and no other than the alphess could grant him that. Argent would be ready should any, even in higher numbers, attempt to assail. Pallid chest would expand beneath the woman?s gaze, pride inflating his lungs as he would sway upon coral stilts, wry smirk twitching cherry lips as she would speak. His mind burning, simmering with intent, ?Must you be so lovely, little sovereign? It hardly seems fair,? he would chuckle weakly, tail lashing aimlessly about the slopes of hind limbs. Down to business, eh? ?Isardis, King of Glaciem and my Kingdom?s Overseer, Argent; we come with no other purpose than to inform of my? interests. You see, pretty dove, a tiny demoness, a rising little temptress, had crossed my path a feeble chance ago. And well, I am more than confident little ?Liberty? could put her blistering attitude to much greater use beneath my own rule. Yes, she would fit right in, dare you deny her such opportunity?? bemused bubbles would threaten to escape from pale lips, instead tumbling endlessly about the caverns of clenched jaws.

A woman was quick to arrive, white with a russet face. Argent would look at her without saying much, simply a present body to attack should her King need her assistance. Others would of course arrive, leaving the Glaciem party outnumbered five to two at the very least. She partially expected a few more Glaciens to show; Isardis had a son and a sister present in the pack at the very least, and they would most certainly back him. For now she did not worry, remaining confident in stature and pose.
Isardis would state his business, and Argent would remain a silent figure, a shadow in the background, a hired hand. When he had finished speaking she would voice her own opinion. ?It truly is a lovely place. She would be looked after, I can assure you,? she spoke; sometimes a woman was better able to assure things than another woman. In truth, Glaciem was a paradise. Sure, there were certain aspects of it that were not ideal, but the day to day life for women was wonderful. They were well protected, fed, and provided for. Their children were looked after, their lives defended. The community the Overseer was trying to build was a stable one, consisting of connected individuals looking out for one another?s welfare.

They had been waiting for this call for a while, ever since Liberty had sprinted over the boarders and collapsed he had been waiting. Since then he hadn't left Liberty alone for long, keeping a watchful eye on her even when she had decided she needed to stretch her legs. Today they were curled up in their den, having moved and found a new once since Aislyn's death, Friction's head resting easily on her shoulder. His ear twitched slightly as he head the howl but other then opening his eyes he didn't move for a long moment. Finally he lifted his head and looked towards the opening of their den, he knew what would happen today and he knew what he would have to do if certain events played out. he wasn't nervous or scared, instead an odd sense of calm had settled over him. Liberty was his life and he was more then willing to give his to protect her. "Liberty... He's here, wake up sweet heart,"he murmured gently if she hadn't already woken up. He licked this side of her neck, smoothing the fur behind her ear before pushing his nose against the back of her neck. "No matter what happens today remember that I love you. If you want to go, I will go with you. If you don't then they'll have to go through me first..." he reassured her. They would take her over his dead body, not that he would ever say that to her but he would die before he ever let this 'ghost' take her against her will. Slowly he would lift himself, smiling easily down at his daughter before motioning for her to follow him. She could make her choice as the events played out, he would follow her lead. Hew knew that her mother had wanted Liberty to be the next beta of Valhalla but if that wasn't what Liberty wanted then he wouldn't force it upon her. He had never been sure why Aislyn had been so forceful with Liberty's future, Friction was a firm believer that their daughter should find her own way but had stepped back to let Aislyn do as she pleased. But now that Aislyn was gone he had to find his own parenting style, find his own way without Aislyn. The walk was quiet, Friction keeping close to his daughter even as they approached the slowly growing party gathered at the boarders. He flashed a small smile at his daughter, hoping she would put on a brave face for this whole ordeal. He approached slowly, a brief tip of his head given to Chrys in greeting before he positioned himself to her left and back slightly, motioning for Liberty to stand between himself and Chrys. It was where he felt that she was the safest. From there all they could do was wait. The 'ghost' had already spoken his demands, echoed by a black and white female that accompanied him. Friction did what he could to bite his tongue. For now he would put his faith in their alpha.

The male didn't seem to be intimidated by the various members of Valhalla that appeared at the borders. To think, he hadn't even thought to howl for someone, and he had a substantial audience here to see what it was that he came for. She was always glad to have her beta alongside her, and she glanced at both Cormalin and Azalea before the stranger finally spoke up. His speech was smooth, and although his mannerisms left her feeling he didn't take much seriously, she would stand vigilant and listen to his request. His name was Isardis, and he and his lady, Argent, had come here to say that they had come for one of Valhalla's members.

Liberty.

The alpha's ears perked at the sound of the young female's name, and she realized that this was the beast that had scared the female so thoroughly before. Still, her visage remained neutral as she kept eye contact with the king, not giving away her knowledge of the situation just yet. "Lovely I may be, but I am not foolish enough to give my members away to strangers. Especially for nothing in return." Surely a beast as seamless and polished as himself, would never do the same for any other. "As polite as it was of the two of you to come here, I will not be giving her away." Dare she deny him? Oh she did.

"I wish you the best in making Glaciem as respectable a place as it is beautiful, but the answer is no." Even if he had come here and Liberty was more neutral than she was terrified on the matter, she wouldn't send her off this way. The girl was her mentor's only child, and she would be a treasured member of this pack as long as she wanted to be here. Her future as beta was up to her, but her future here was set in stone, lest she actively express other goals that she had in mind.

He had heard whispers of his father going to a pack by the name of Valhalla, to claim a young dame that he had his sights on, another female to add to his growing brood. Personally, the young Blood would never go to challenge a pack for a member, unless that specific wolf had expressed wishes to leave its pack. He didn't know any of the details as to what had happened between his father and this particular woman, but if he was going to challenge this Valhalla pack for her, then clearly she had to have something that he really wanted and probably lacked in the women that made up his brood for the time being. Naturally Taurig had wanted to accompany Isardis and the Overseer Argent, in case things turn a turn for the worst, but the pale ghost had denied his request to tag along, assuring him that things would go smoothly and by that night they would return with a new glaciem member. Though Isardis was good at getting woman, going up against a pack didn't seem like the most brilliant of ideas. But the young man had relented, allowing his father and the warrior woman Argent to depart to the foreign pack. But despite his father's denial for his appearance, the young warrior could not sit still, knowing that his flesh and blood was endangering himself over some petty woman. With the safety of his father eating at his self-control, Taurig had set out towards the strange land of Valhalla, using his father's scent as a beacon to lead him down westward. He galloped with immense speed, seeming to become a shadow darting across the land as he made haste to reach the land of Valhalla, needing to arrive before anything happened and he walked in on a possible blood-bath. Lucky for him, it seemed that the discussion about the woman's fate was still going on, but that didn't slow the young man's pace. He thundered towards the border of the foreign pack, steel-like muscles rippling beneath his grey-blue coat, talons digging into the soil as he came to a grinding halt beside the Glaciem King and his Overseer. Icy eyes looked nearly white as they danced over the gathered crowd of Valhallans, easily identifying the clay-faced woman as the leader of the group. Onyx dipped plume curled over his hips, ebony tainted ears attentive and forward, gargantuan frame tense. A glance was spared down to his father and Argent, a curt nod presented to the both of them before turning his attention back to the crowd before him, presenting each with their own hard, icy look, ready to tear flesh were any thinking of attacking his father. Talk like this

The little doll had attempted manipulation, bravely gambled with her own life and vague future as she attempted to lure The King into one of her petty little traps; Isardis may not have been a beast of particular wit, but he wasn?t a fool, and to let a mere lamb grasp at the throne of greatness would be no less than an amateur mistake; especially when every other woman of Glaciem could so easily bridge the fickle bristles of her childish spine to pilfer it from her. Little Liberty was no doubt going to be more of a pain than she was a pleasure within his ranks, though still the snowy angel could find no other way to relieve the throbbing yearnings to posses her. He had no other choice, he would not be walked all over by the measly paws of a scrawny pup.

Her ears would flicker, though her expression would remain thorny; still, as the duo-tone wench let gratis her conclusion, it was all the more expected, and even somewhat appreciated. Even if Liberty had come to Glaciem quietly, with her superior?s consent, it would not stop Isardis forcefully stealing from the pack in future. Alliances were not something The King voluntarily flagged, his forces far too eminent to be at the mercy of lesser beings. So the foolish vixen would be greeted by the weak chuckles of his whirling intellect, ruby gaze brewing with sinister schemes. ?It seems you are blissfully unaware of the lamb?s offerings, little queen, she had thought me somewhat stupid, you see; reaching out with that sharp little intellect of hers, ah she craved so badly to be my queen,? his cackles would volumize between lyrics, ?But I simply couldn?t give a mere weasel my kingdom?s throne.?

Sting, perhaps it would; he could only hope. Taurig would arise somewhat unsuspectingly, his loyal stance that of no less than the prime image of Isardis? lineage. The faithfulness he would pride himself upon within the towers of Glaciem. Here, it seemed foolish alpha?s were no less of a guide to the people within it?s borders; pretty faces to stroke bleak futures. Isardis was a King, his people lived to serve him, as he would live for what they could bring; it wasn?t sick or twisted, no- it was realistic. The same kind of realism most wolves were terrified of facing. Isardis, like Argent and Taurig, were not afraid of what nature could so easily bring. ?So you leave me no choice, pretty magpie, other than to satisfy my wishes fairly,? with those lyrics the albino monster would swivel, pacing a few steps from the group before he would pause once more, features still bustling with the pleasantries that spoiled his mind, ?I look forward to our reunion on the battlefield.? And finally he would continue athwart, entrusting son and knight to shield him as he would saunter so arrogantly from the sunburnt lands. The initiation of a war? One could only hope.

-- exit isar, unless called back or something. <3

The woman was a fool, unaware of Isardis?s powers or the foolishness and greed of her own member. Nontheless, Argent let Isardis speak his peace, and then she would eye the female alpha. ?If you dare to bring more than five others when Isardis calls for you, little dove, I will go ahead and challenge for another member of yours,? she threatened. She would not linger long after such a threat, instead letting her eyes pass over the assembled as if deciding upon a prize before turning after her king. Argent was not the sort of woman to lay down such a threat idly; she meant it. If Chrysanthe dared to try to outnumber their King then she would see fit that she no longer had the numbers to do so. Maybe she?d challenge for the russet-pelted beauty herself, although she wasn?t certain that was at all possible.

He had arrived at the end of meeting, barely in time to catch his father's departing words as he promised to meet the Valhallan's in the battlefield. Clearly, the woman that his father was after had to be something of a prize in order for him to want to fight for her. But as his icy eyes scanned the crowd of Valhallans, she didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, or at least he didn't she was. Certainly it wasn't the red-faced girl standing beside the queen, or the brown woman in the back. Neither of them looked to be hardly worth his father's time. So who was this mystery woman -to him at least- that Isardis was willing to battle over? He supposed he would find out soon enough. And with his last words his father turned heel and began moving back home to Glaciem, the Overseer Argent throwing her promise at the Valhallans before she too took her leave. Taurig waited to make his departure, allowing his father and Argent to well far ahead. His icy gaze touched each wolf individually, committing their faces to memory before his own departure was taken, inky limbs pulling the young blood away from the foreign land to take him back home. He would see some of these wolves again. He was sure of it. exit Talk like this

The male would laugh, and she would watch, taken aback by the audacity of this so called king. Yet his words would strike her for different reasons, apparently Liberty instigated this entire ordeal. She knew that he was a King, and that he had the power to make her life quite difficult - yet Chrysanthe understood where she might have been coming from. She was an adventurous yearling too, and if she had been in a similar position in a more mischievous mindset she might have done the same thing. Still, it did not make his cackles any less obnoxious or his disrespect toward Liberty make any less of an impact. This man was quite silly and possibly insane.

Still, she would only sigh. He requested her audience and now he was making an utter fool of himself. Oh how she wished that her siblings had kept the throne so that she didn't have to deal with the nut job that had taken their place. Didn't he realize that he was the only one that thought this was funny? Even his little posse took this matter at hand more seriously than he. When he finally turned to leave, she was so tempted by the overt swishing of his tail to fight him then and there for disturbing her peace, but she would see him soon enough.

"Afraid of a few spectators? Why don't you catch up with your "king."" The woman would say, not "If you challenge for another of my members, you make an enemy out of much of Alacritia." Not that Valhalla alone wasn't a force to reckon with - yet should Glaciem make this war, then she would not take them lightly or alone. As of now, they were the alpha's problem, and she would deal with them fairly on her own by fighting for Liberty on the battlefield. If Isardis or Argent pushed and kept challenging for Valhallens, then she would deal with it accordingly.

She would lock eyes with the grey pelted male, and simply watch him leave - before turning toward her own members once the triad was gone. "We have much to discuss Valhalla." Her tone was serious but not somber. She would warn her members of this possible threat, but would not worry them just yet.